“on troost ” (for louretha) Lloyd C. Daniel May 13, 2015 Featured, Poetry terri can pop her fingers pop em so loud make you think she got somethin inside her hand she steps outside the illusion now and works harrison they ran her off troost said it was too good for such an immoral trade terri said she’s been kinda layin back lately no pun intended getting ready for the conventioneers “naacp?”/i ask she says/“naw, the a.m.e. and especially the southern baptists!” ray made a strong point about the serenity with which people go about their “good” jobs at the other end of troost what do they do at honeywell? people drive by all the time what do they do? what do they do at honeywell? at honeywell among other things they make triggers for nuclear bombs yes they do they make triggers for computerized guided death machines machines not built to be used as a last resort against bigheaded monsters from outer space but by bigheaded monsters in their all consuming holy war against right bombs to be used by the thought police and their masters terri used to follow her grandmother then she followed the honorable elijah muhammad then karl marx now she follows a cat with a stingy-brim hat and diamonds on his wrists/on his fingers and in his teeth she said she dug farrakhan on channel 25 the other night and thinks she might join the nation again but not until after the conventions i ask her deadpan “what’s black people’s main problem?” without blinking she says “black people consume too much and don’t (crack!) sell enough!” “where’d you hear that?” i ask she says “i heard it from the griot in front of food mart now you can argue with 300,000 years of history if you want to but I ain’t got time” as she moved toward a nice family man with out-of-state plates near the southern end of troost they make triggers for nuclear bombs that’s a good reason to be targeted by the russians/the chinese/the north koreans or anybody else who feels they might need to bang back rat lady underground miles & miles deep in war rooms scotch in the bar but we live topside with the rat roun our necks ron’s cynicism mixed with mrs. watson’s boy’s pancake street sissy death mask designed to slow traffic & entice the not rare surbubanite hypocriticus into his lair make the perfect emblem for labor on troost terri said she already had tickets to michael jackson’s return concert she said “it’s like that/when you know the right people” after listening to a tape of farrakhan’s st. louis speech she said “yeah/that’s badnamothafucka! but i’m still gonna go see michael i don’t care if he is a punk” she’s rollin “bush a punk and he president all michael do is sang!” she pops her collar/looks both ways leans over to me and whispers “bush georged the president of Afghanistan/in the white house!/cape & all!” now who am I to say that’s not true? she had tickets/i didn’t once while observing an ultra-christian demonstration against a book store on troost i asked the head-zealot-in-charge about the purpose of their action he came across with the ole reliable “we don’t want our children to see such sinful things” i told him/i didn’t think he didn’t have to worry because if things keep going the way they are and if the kids catch one of the flashes they won’t be seein a damn thang nor will they be able to see the radiation as it cooks their insides rendering them sterile dna altered for eternity or the sight of hip mutants from sector d which used to be such a livable place reading by the light and breakin to the music of children who glow in the dark the johns cruise as though embarrassed buzzards in heat i’m not sure why they call em johns probably got something to do with john doe/ john q. public or maybe it has something to do with johnsons i don’t know but in real life they tend to be named chuck/pat/tom/bobby joe/rex and increasingly bruce & chad and yes sometimes leroy so you want to clean up troost well know that the combined weight of all the loveless blow jobs in the world can not erase humanity from the planet as if we were just so many misspelled words bring winter to the tropics turn forests to deserts cities to furnaces causing concrete and steel to run like water a clear and present danger holy books & constitutions to ash/dust flowers a memory tell the moral majority that nuclear war would put a hellava dent in church attendance tell the troost business association that nuclear war would dramatically reduce they walk-in trade tell the hyde park circle up the wagons young pioneers neighborhood coalition that nuclear war would create a circumstance under which there will be no quiche no quiche no joggin paths no joggin no european music no europe no weekend ski vacations no skis no vail no racquetballs no racquetball clubs no racquetball racquets nuclear war ain’t all bad so you want to clean up troost on which end will you start? © lloyd daniel, 1985/2006 taken from his book “objective reality” Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment.